


Dipped in Watercolour

by LifeReet



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, No tornado, Normal AU, coffee shop AU, pricefield, this is so bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 03:32:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5274917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeReet/pseuds/LifeReet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max returns from L.A, after a year, to a happy, energetic new-and-improved Chloe Price; she also meets another female that sparks jealousy inside her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dipped in Watercolour

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my English narrative assignment, and I decided to post it because I thought it was pretty decent. Sorry if it seems a bit choppy or rushed at the end; I didn't have enough time to finish and elaborate on the plot. With only 6 hours to think and write something, I had to squish everything in under 5 pages. (EDIT: did I seriously type '10 pages' instead o '5 pages'  
> I may make a sequel, or re-write this.
> 
> I took the Cafe name out of a name generator so that's why it's a bit odd.

Coffee is one of the most important components to Max’s morning; the other important component is drinking it. The unique, bittersweet taste and the calming, wavering steam intrigues her. Something sparks inside her when her lips first touch the cup and taste the freshly brewed liquid in the early morning; it inspires her to photograph something simplistic, yet beautiful in the rising sun. It also gives her that extra boost of energy she needs in the morning, energy that is swiped away from late night studying.

Max sauntered near a small coffee shop that had a dimly lighted sign reading “Thinking Cup Café” on its front; the sign lightly dotted with the morning’s frosted dew. The air out was bitingly cold, but she still walked on with her nose buried under her checker patterned scarf and her shaking hands shoved into her large coat pockets. She glanced around, examining the wooden street signs to make sure she hadn't made any wrong turns. It’s been awhile since she’s been here; she had left the city for about a year to finish 3 semesters of photography in LA. Although she’s lived here for her entire life, the streets seemed completely alien to her.

As she approached the coffee shop, the photographer looked through the frosted window, she could make out several figures pacing around. One figure, however, caught her eye; a tall, lanky silhouette with bright short hair tied up into a small almost-non-existent ponytail. A hopeful smile slipped onto Max’s face.

“It has to be _her_ ,” she said, puffing out clouds of mist. She pulled down her scarf, revealing her nose, red from the chilliness of the winter morning.

The brunette placed her hand on the door handle and pulled, but quickly realised the ¨ _Push_ ¨ sign stuck onto the glossy door with adhesive tape. A warm aroma hit her, along with the strong scent of freshly brewed coffee. Max stepped in eagerly, closed the door behind her, and looked around. It wasn’t much. String lanterns hung from the ceiling, tables and chairs were set neatly, potted plants were carefully set on the window sill, and a small chalk board with messy writing of the menu hung above the coffee-stained counter. Every coffee lover’s aesthetic

 _This would make a great shot._ Taking her time to reach into her camera bag to pull out a polaroid camera, she instinctively crouched down and positioned her instant camera for a clear, precise shot.

 _Flash._ The sound of the shutter and sudden flash caused some baristas and customers to turn around, but they turned around after they’d realised it was just a photography student. Everyone turned back around, but one. The polaroid fell out of the camera, but before Max could pick it up--  
“Max!”, a girl in an apron called out energetically. That barista was no other than _Chloe Price_ , Max’s lifelong friend or a little more than just a _friend_ to Max.

Chloe jumped on Max estatically and engulfed her in a bear hug. Max missed this, the warm feeling of Chloe hugging her, her energetic personality. The brunette returned the hug and they stayed there for what seemed like minutes. All the while, Chloe was making comments on how Max’s appearance changed and how much Chloe had missed her.

The embrace lasted until Max physically expressed how she couldn’t breathe from Chloe’s tight hold. The dirt blonde released her and smiled apologetically.

Max’s hair had grown out a bit during the year and gained a little sense of fashion, but _Chloe_ , on the other hand, had what looked like another tattoo on her right arm, or it could have been a coffee stain, Max had no idea. She no longer rocked the punk-rock-hipster style clothing, she, instead, appeared more formal. Her hair, that was once a beautiful ombre blue, faded to her natural hair colour, dirty blonde. Some dye had still survived on the bangs of her messy bob cut. It’s hard to explain what it looked like, it was a bit faint on the top parts but still held its colour on the tips. It looked like if she had dipped her hair into watercolour and was too lazy to wash it off. She also seemed a bit taller, standing at about 5’10”. Chloe also looked a lot healthier, she’d probably quit smoking and vaping while Max was gone. Whatever the case may be, Max still thought Chloe was the most beautiful thing, physically and mentally. _Something a photograph or a canvas can’t capture._

There was a long silence, the tension was eating away at her. Max was grateful when Chloe finally spoke, “It’s so great to have you back.” An amused smile spread across Max’s face and she responded. It felt like she’d never left.

The small talk was interrupted by Chloe frantically dashing off to fill in orders and apologising to customers waiting impatiently for their morning cup of energy.

One consumer accidentally dropped their cup, shattering the small container into dozens of little fragments.

“You’re going to have to pay for that!” someone shouted from behind the counter. Max turned around to look at the entity that the unknown voice came from.

“ _Who’s that?_ ” the brunette questioned in her mind.

The person behind the counter was a bit taller than Max, had long brown hair, and an earring with what seemed to be a feather. However, Max didn’t have the chance or time to get a proper look at her before she disappeared behind a large machine (the machine looked like a coffee machine, but Max wasn’t sure).

Pulling out a chair, the photographer took a seat and set her bag on the table. She looked out the window and slowly slipped away into a daydream, or a _morningdream._ It took her a while but she quickly realised that she wasn’t just here to reunite with her best friend; she came here for _coffee_. Not that Chloe wasn’t important to her, but she just wanted her daily dose of caffeine. Besides, what else would she do here? _Distract Chloe from her job?_

Before Max could call for a barista, specifically the former hipster-punk, she watched Chloe talking to the mysterious girl that was shouting from the table top. Max was too far to hear their conversation and couldn’t make out what they were saying, but their postures were _weird_. Not in a twisted, mutilated way but a really open way. Like if they had shared something Max and Chloe couldn’t.

Jealousy creeped into Max’s mind, _a lot could happen in a year. Maybe she was being delusional before; Chloe didn’t like her the way she did. Maybe Max isn’t Chloe’s type. Is she disappointed with her for leaving again?_ All these thoughts ate away at her heart. Meanwhile, Chloe was still chatting away with the other.

Chloe made a strange face of loathing to the girl. _Okay, perhaps not then._

After a while of unconscious starring, Chloe turned around and glanced at Max, smiled and turned back to the girl, “I’ll be back, Rachel.” _Rachel, huh?_

The barista made her way to the photographer, all the while greeting consumers and side stepping early risers. When she finally arrived at Max’s table, she grabbed the pen resting on her ear covered with several piercings. She swiped the stained notepad, that seemed to look like someone dappled brown watercolour on it, from her apron’s pocket.

“How may I serve you, hippie?” she asked with a small condescending smirk.

“The regular. If you remember,” the photographer came back at her.

“Of course _I_ remember, how could I forget?”

“Mhm, sure.”

“Medium, no cream, black coffee.”

“Dammit,” the brunette sighed in defeat.

Chloe chuckled and wrote down the order.

“I’ll be right back, nerd,” she snickered, walking away to take other orders.

Max grinned softly and reached for her camera satchel and pulled out a thick, messy sketchbook. It was old and slightly torn, but it still helped Max pass time. She dug into her bag once again and pulled out an entire art kit (pencils, brushes, pastels, watercolours; basically all an artist ever needs). The photographer took a pencil and began roughly sketching on the toned paper. Since the cafe was now filled with consumers, Max let her mind drift off on the drawing, because she had all the time she needed.

Finishing the final stroke, she took her brush and wet it with the bottled water in the satchel. She tapped at the yellow, then the brown in attempt to mix the two colours slightly. Max brushed lightly at the paper, not caring if the colour went out the lines. She then repeated the process, but with the colour blue. She mixed white and blue to try to lighten the colour.

Distracted by trying to gather the right colours, she didn’t notice the figure next to her watching.

“Impressive,” a voice commented softly.

Max nearly jumped out of her seat, but she quickly recovered and looked at Chloe.

“Jesus Chloe…” the brunette sighed in relief.

“Do you like to draw me often?” Chloe said looking over the details of the drawing with an obnoxious smile. The photographer chose to ignore her comment and started to put away her old art supplies, leaving the leather sketchbook out for Chloe to examine.

 

It took a while, but Max finally got her order of coffee and Chloe’s shift was over. The barista set her apron to the side and joined Max at her table.

“Feel like discussing anything?” Chloe asked plopping herself down on the chair.

Even though Chloe asked if Max wanted to discuss anything, Max knew all she wanted to know about was how the food in L.A tasted and if Max had fun there or if she bought Chloe any souvenirs. However, she didn’t give her that. Instead, she asked --

“So, that girl,” Max notioned, eyeballing the female standing lazily behind the counter.

“Who? Rachel?”

“Yeah, Rachel…”

“What about her?”

“Well, uhm…”   
How would Max word this without sounding _clingy or nosey? Maybe she should steer away from that._

“She’s p-pretty,” the brunette managed to get out. It wasn’t the best, but it was something.

“Sure, I guess,” Chloe answered with a confused expression, as if she was trying to grasp what Max was getting at.

The barista changed her posture on the chair, resting her head on the palm of her hand. She looked at Max dead in the eyes. It wasn’t an intense stare, in fact it was quite a soft stare, but it still sent shivers down her spine. Chloe waited for a response. When she found none, she opened her mouth to change the subject--

“D-do you like her, Chloe?” Max questioned.

“Rachel? Do I like, _Rachel_?”

The photographer looked at Chloe, and that look clarified that Chloe had heard her right.

“N-no. I don’t. I, uhm, fancy someone else…” Chloe replied shyly. _Uh-oh, trouble in paradise._

Max sunk down in her chair and tugged at her scarf, trying to fix it. She chuckled softly, trying to brush off the response and sipped her coffee.

The brunette changed the subject awkwardly and had varying conversations with the other.

“You got a new apartment?” Chloe asked with an inquisitive look.

Max nodded as a response while drinking her caffeinated drink; she set the light cup aside.

“You _have_ to give me a tour sometime,” Chloe remarked delightfully.

“Well, I do have the time right now. I’m not done unpacking, but _you_ can help me with that,” Max answered teasingly.

Chloe smiled and got off her chair and pushed it back in lightly. She untied her short hair and threw on a beanie and a leather jacket, which wasn’t much but the cold never bothered her anyways. While she did that, Max was packing away her sketchbook into her satchel. The dirt blonde said her goodbyes to the other baristas and strolled to the door to keep it open for Max.

They both left the coffee shop, merrily, to head for Max’s new “cave” arm in arm. Max took a quick glance at Chloe, specifically her hair. The dyed bits were hanging low from her beanie, still dipped in the warmest, blue watercolour.

Max clutched the sneaked photograph that she’d taken of Chloe’s “water coloured hair” and her dark, blue eyes, earlier in her unoccupied hand. Maybe it was best if they kept it to themselves for a while longer. After all, they did live in a small town, ¨not-so-dipped-in-watercolour¨.


End file.
